


King Arthur and the Knight of the White Stag

by myaekingheart



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 15:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18034472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myaekingheart/pseuds/myaekingheart
Summary: A stranger steps foot into King Arthur's court and makes a request. First impressions can be deceptive.





	King Arthur and the Knight of the White Stag

**Author's Note:**

> So this was actually my final paper for my medieval lit class last semester. We were given the option to write either a research paper or our own Anglo-Saxon elegy or Arthurian legend. I ended up taking it upon myself to write a King Arthur story with my Narnia OC from my fanfiction series The Temptation Chronicles. Heavily Narnia inspired overall. Got a near perfect score on this though so it's all good lmfao

            In the days when King Arthur sat upon the throne, there was once a wild and raucous adventure which challenged that which they had all faced before. It began with the esteemed White Stag, elusive creature of the Otherworld and harbinger of adventure. It was shortly after that a strange figure appeared in King Arthur’s court, one of unfamiliar stature and lineage. He was laughable, or so the other knights thought, a scrawny thing that made one wonder how he ever came to this occupation. However, he was a noble young man of great demeanor and skill. He stepped foot into the court with an air of confidence befitting an esteemed knight. Among his height and weight, the other pressing feature whispered about among the court was his strange presence. The others grew rather discomforted at the sight of him.

            It was Arthur who finally spoke upon the boy, asking “What do they call you, and what brings you to my court?”

            The young man bowed before the king and replied, “I am known as Sir Eilon, and I have come to fight for a place in your court.”

            The moment he spoke, the others erupted in wild laughter. “Who would ever fight a runt such as him?” they laughed. Sir Eilon, however, stood tall, their words ceasing to sway his request.

            Arthur called for peace in the court, then asked, “And what of your own lord? Are you not already a loyal thane?”

            Sir Eilon sucked in a deep breath. It was a complicated matter, but the king deserved an honest answer and the young man did not enjoy being dishonest. “The truth of the matter is that my lord has perished, as have all the others.”

            “So you are in exile then?” Sir Gawain asked. Sir Eilon slowly nodded. It was more or less true. King Arthur chewed on this fact for a moment, trying to discern what to do. It would be easy to throw the young man out, but Arthur was a good king and feared what that may say of his own hospitality. However, he found it unnerving that the young man was so confident in his abilities despite his figure. He truly lacked the tall, strong presence of a genuine knight.

            As Arthur contemplated, however, another of his knights hatched a brilliant idea. He bid the king to lend an ear and explained his plan. Arthur’s eyes grew wide at the prospect, quite a curious offer indeed. He tented his fingers and then made his decision. “My dear boy, you speak with such confidence and yet I find a great difficulty in believing your skill. In order to prove yourself, let me suggest a proposition: if you are as worthy a knight as you say you are, then embark into the forest and capture the White Stag that prances there. If you succeed, you shall be the greatest knight in all the land, nay world, far superior than even my Gawain, and I will accept you into my court. Does this offer please you, sir?”

            It was known far and wide that the White Stag was infamously uncatchable. To capture such a creature would mean not only renown but also an arousal of suspicion. By which way would this young man have ever captured such a thing, anyway? The questions would churn through the kingdom and most likely harbor a great distrust, or perhaps Sir Eilon was thinking too deeply on the matter and he would simply be viewed as an incomparable knight. Feeling as if he had no other choice, he accepted.

            Gawain then stepped forward, clapping a hand to the young man’s shoulder. “I believe it is only fair that we should make a quest of this! I would like to try my hand at capturing the stag myself, if it so pleases your majesty.”

            Arthur thought for a brief moment before accepting the offer. A sighting of the White Stag was quite the treat and he agreed that it would be quite a waste to reject an opportunity such as this for the pursuit of adventure by all. They provided a room for Sir Eilon for the night with the intent of embarking early the next morning.

            The whole of the court was abuzz with great excitement as they prepared to set off on their quest. Sir Eilon mounted his steed and joined the others, a strange anticipation rushing through him. And then without a moment’s hesitation, they were off. The hunt was long and the weather was fair, a kind breeze rushing through the trees. It was upon nightfall, when the sky glows gold, that Sir Eilon noticed it. He had strayed far from the group, separate and therefore alone. He knew this forest poorly and was unsure of his navigation, which stirred in him a rushing anxiety. He clutched the hilt of his sword when he heard a rustling in the brush, expecting certain danger, then found relief in discovering it was only Sir Gawain.

            “I swore I saw the stag run this way” he replied after a moment of silence. Sir Eilon nodded as if to say he swore the same. Then, with a nod, he replied, “Well, I wish you great luck in your endeavor.”

            “The same to you, Sir Gawain” Sir Eilon replied. It was almost as if he no longer wished to speak with the knight—perhaps Gawain was distracting him or perhaps the two of them alone was intimidating. After all, Gawain was the greatest knight. Sir Eilon was certain he would not take kindly to defeat.

            “A grand prize awaits, indeed, Sir Eilon” Gawain continued, “For it is said that whoever captures the White Stag shall kiss the fairest maiden in court.”

            “A feat I am sure is of no challenge to you, stag or not” Eilon said. “But I have no desire for kisses or maidens. My only goal is to prove my worth in your lord’s court, and for that I plan to succeed.”

            Gawain seemed almost taken aback by Eilon’s words. Surely the young man knew him as more than just a popular choice with the ladies of court. But their conversation was at once cut short by a discomforting sound from the brush. At once, the men readied their weapons with the hope that the stag was near, only to be met with brutal enemies. The battle was harsh and neither survived unscathed, but Sir Eilon’s wounds were far the worse. It was at this point in the journey, alone in the wood with no illumination but moonlight, that the truth of this stranger was revealed. Sir Eilon was, in fact, no knight, but a rather coarse lady.

            “Deceitful woman!” Gawain exclaimed upon making such a discovery. “Have you no care for what you have done? Have you no remorse for the lies you have told?”

            “I am not one for dishonesty, but there were few other choices” Eilon explained.

            “Tell me, what of your tale is true and what is fake? Clearly you are no knight, that much is certain, but what of your name and your history? Were they lies, as well?” Gawain demanded.

            Even injured, Eilon forced an air of confidence. “I am known as Eilonwy, and much else of my story is true. My lord and all of his court were slain and I, the only survivor. I had few other choices but this.”

            Though shocked to the core, Gawain had to admit that this revelation explained many a question that had been running through his head as of late. He could surely see Eilon, now Eilonwy, as more of a woman than ever a man, her figure making much more sense in this fashion. Still, there were a great many things yet to be answered. “You had many other choices than this, I am certain” Gawain insisted, but Eilonwy shook her head.

            “What of a woman without a man? There is no place in this society for the singular. There was one but only one other choice left for me, to seek a convent, but I would rather die upon the stake for treachery than conform to such a bleak and sheltered life” she explained. “No, there is only one path allowing agency and that is when one is a man, and so that is what I became. I stole a set of armor from a corpse and set off to begin a new life and find someplace new to belong.”

            “Blasphemy!” Gawain exclaimed. “You have abandoned your station in life, and therefore disrupted the natural order of things.”

            “But what is nature when it is a cruel mistress to those of the inferior sex?” Eilonwy countered. “I have never been one to fulfill traditional expectations. My court would argue it so. Now they are gone, and their words are no longer heard, and I only have a single goal left to achieve. I will capture the White Stag and prove my worth as a knight, woman or not, and earn my rightful place in court.”

            “But what place does a lady have in knighthood other than on the arm of a knight?” Gawain asked.

            “If there is no place for me then I will make one” Eilonwy argued. Gawain was admittedly impressed with her determination, though he still felt strange about this circumstance. What would Arthur think should he discover these lies? And how did she ever expect to achieve such a goal with injuries such as these? It was an impossible feat and yet here she was, forcing herself up with sword drawn and climbing back upon her horse. “I wish you the greatest luck, Gawain, despite your inevitable failure” she spoke and then disappeared into the night. As Gawain watched her disappear, a part of him was certain he would never see her again. Much like the stag himself, she was an elusive creature full of a strange mystery he did not quite understand and yet a part of him wanted to capture and comprehend it himself. Perhaps then he would know truly of her great affliction, that which plagues all women who are not legally bound to men.

            Upon their return to Arthur’s court, Eilonwy was nowhere to be seen. The other knights talked among themselves, muttering that perhaps the overzealous Sir Eilon had been defeated in the forest or had given up on account of preserving his sense of pride. Gawain, however, knew the truth, and such talk began to irk him. The entire trip back, his head was filled with thoughts about her. If she was, in fact, to return, and even more unlikely but return successful, then what did that mean for this secret between them? What would that mean for her? Was she content with living the rest of her life in disguise? Gawain partially felt as if he had a duty to her—only he knew the truth and he felt as if he was obligated to protect it—but he also had an undeniable duty to his lord. How could he possibly fathom lying to Arthur’s face and still call himself a good thane? Gawain was certain such was impossible. And yet he feared the punishment for treachery should Eilonwy’s secret be revealed, not only of her own lies but of his own trust.

            It was that night, during dinner, when talk of the White Stag arose once again. The knights of the court drank and laughed about their failed attempts, but all the while Gawain was recluse. The ladies of the court had hoped to hear stories of his own attempts, but instead his mind wandered in conflict. It was only when a familiar figure burst into court that Gawain stood attention. Sir Eilon stepped forward bloodied and bruised and yet within his hand was a pair of antlers.

            “I have returned, your majesty, bearing the proof of my success. Therefore, you may discern whether I have proven myself worthy of a place in your court” Sir Eilon spoke. Arthur stared at the antlers a moment, surprised at the scrawny knight’s success. Gawain stared with just as much shock.

            “How can I be sure that these are the antlers of the White Stag specifically? And where is the rest of the body?” Arthur then asked.

            Sir Eilon straightened his back and replied, “Do you doubt my honesty? Do you doubt my ability? If I say I have slain the White Stag, then I have slain the White Stag. As for the body, it is elsewhere. Even in death, it is an elusive creature and was swiftly swept away by the Other, but I suppose such is the fickle will of the fae.”

            Eilonwy’s spiel on honesty sent shivers down Gawain’s spine, knowing that nothing of her time here has been honest in the slightest. How dare she speak of honesty when her presence has been founded on lies? How dare she test the great Arthur’s trust after all she had done? If Gawain had not been a respectable man, he would’ve revealed her true nature right then and there. However, he did not want to make a scene and was rather curious as to how the rest of this might play out. He had trouble believing she had, in fact, captured the elusive White Stag.

            Arthur, though skeptical (and understandably so), eventually was convinced of the young knight’s words, partially on behalf of his wife Guinevere’s insistence. She saw a kindness in the young boy that she took to rather nicely, a certain quality of triumph over adversity and humble worth. It was upon this that Arthur decided a celebration was in order, the only appropriate way to reward a young knight of such an outrageous deed and his new place in the greatest court.

            As the celebration commenced, however, Eilonwy grew rife with disappointment. She knew she did not earn this. She had cheated and lied her way to glory and she was not proud of what she had done. The White Stag still roamed the wood—she couldn’t catch it. Even her success was a well-formulated lie. As she glanced to the faces in the court, she could tell Gawain had already known this. There was no better a knight than he; if he could not capture the White Stag, then no one could.

            Arthur and the rest of the court encouraged Sir Eilon to speak, to give a toast of sorts as a form of thanks for their hospitality and a sign of pride for his work. But Eilon said nothing of pride nor thanks. Instead, the knight was so overcome with grief and sensitivity that he knew there was only thing to say in that moment and that was the truth. “I have lied to you all tonight, and every night I have been with you” the speech began. “Much of what I have told you is true—my lord and the entire court were, in fact, slain, but I am no exiled knight. I am merely a woman guilty of deceiving you all, guilty of desiring a new life in which I am on longer dependent upon men and marriage. I have been cruel and selfish and am unworthy of such kindness. The antlers I have returned with are no more than a ruse from a standard stag, and nothing I ever say seems to be the truth.”

            The entire court fell into a deep, depressed silence as they tried to comprehend what this young man, now woman, had just spoken to them. And then, all at once came bellows of treachery and anger. Even Arthur, the great king, was disappointed.

            “I am not sure how to say this, but I will begin by stating this was a rather unexpected announcement” he began tiredly. “I cannot, however, allow deceit and dishonesty to pass without punishment and your crimes are of great significance.”

            “Is there not something we can do?” Guinevere asked. “Is there not a softer punishment to administer?”

            “I am afraid I cannot stand to see such treachery in this court” Arthur replied. Guinevere’s face fell—she truly had taken quite a liking to the young knight, but now there was nothing more to be said. The only option was execution.

            “I will do it” Gawain then said, standing with back straight and eyes dim.

            Eilonwy bowed her head. “It would be an honor to die by your hand, Sir Gawain” she stated. Arthur instructed the knight to take their criminal into the woods where he was instructed to fulfill his deed. Gawain nodded, then took Eilonwy by the arm and led her outside. She glanced back to the court one final time, to the stricken faces glaring back at her, then bowed her head in shame.

            It is a terrible fate to yearn for something so passionately only to fail and be met with punishment. Eilonwy was disappointed in herself more than anything. She had only wanted a life on her own terms, but her morality had led her to her downfall and now she was to die like the rest of her loved ones. Gawain took her deep into the forest, the moon shining bright overhead, then stopped in a clearing just far enough away.

            “Sir Gawain, if you would be so kind” Eilonwy spoke, voice smaller than she expected. “By which way do you plan to kill me? Shall you chop off my head, or stab me in the chest? Or shall you tie me up someplace and burn me alive?”

            Gawain, however, shook his head. “I shall do no such thing” he replied.

            Eilonwy blinked. “Then in what manner do you plan to kill me? There are only so many ways—”

            “Quiet” Gawain interrupted. “I have a great duty to my king, and your talking will not make this any easier” he stated, then in a much lower voice as if someone was bound to hear him, “But the woods are a strange place, and we are alone. I will not let a single drop of your blood spill in this forest.” Eilonwy opened her mouth to argue but Gawain silenced her. “Do not protest, for I have made my decision. Leave this place, and never return. After all, there is no death quite so painful as a life destined to live alone, and I cannot bring myself to kill a lady.”

            Eilonwy was unsure of what to say to this. She was grateful, of course, but felt as if she did not deserve such kindness. She ceased to protest, however. After a few moments, she fully accepted her fate and with a polite kiss, bid Gawain a fond farewell, thanking him softly. He had hoped it would not come to this, that there was some way for her to atone for her transgressions, but he had little say in the matter. All he could manage was to do what she had done all this time, despite hating the prospect of it. All he could do was lie.   


End file.
